Drummer's Jacket, 26 May

Oxley shrugged. "Might, 'specially when he gets to know that Buckles knows the calls about as well as we done when we first went on duty. He seemed like the sort who'd 'ppreciate a joke, 'specially one that don't hurt anyone, though there's no tellin' what an officer'll think 'bout anythin', is there?"

Young Andrew grinned at him before ducking out of sight to change out of his uniform. Branning canted his head to the side and listened for any sound that would indicate somebody was coming down the ladder. Nothing. Good.

"Best lad aboard, you is," the drummer said, drawing Branning's attention back down. "Don't let no rats carry this lot off, now."

"Course not." Branning watched Shepherd vanish up the ladder again. He shook his head. The things those boys got up to...

Something was nagging at Evans' brain. Something about the Marine drummer standing in his usual place on deck. From where he was standing, the boy looked no different from the others, but there was something about him that wasn't right.

Frowning, he shifted sideways for a better look. Blue-collared jacket, black round hat, well cared-for drum. Just like the other drummers. What was different about this one? The breeze ruffled Evans' queue and he lifted a hand to brush some loose strands of hair from his face. Queue. That was it. The drummer had a queue. A sailor's queue. He nearly laughed with the cleverness of it. He'd have to find out who had planned this little adventure and see the boy was rewarded for his genius.

He shook his head. "No. Least not with most officers. Hopefully Mister Cartwright'll take it all right."

The alternative was less than pleasant. Thomas picked briefly at his trousers then shrugged. There was no point worrying over it.

"Hoi, you two idle ol' lobsters," his brother said, reappearing from below. "Which division's De Guarde in, again?"

Thomas stared. What was Andrew doing in sailor's slops?

Oxley turned at the sound of Andrew's voice, and blinked. He was wearing a sailor's shirt himself, but only because he always did. He was also wearing shoes, gaiters and his regulation trousers, with braces, the way he always did. Sticks was wearing sailor's slops - the complete rig: shirt, trousers, belt and all. He'd also scrounged a hat from somewhere to cover his hair. He looked, in fact, every inch the ship's boy.

Oh, this was going to be good.

"Cob Chase's division, mate," he said in answer to Sticks' question, realising that the other Shepherd wasn't going to say anything. Tom Shepherd seemed to be too busy trying to take Sticks' transformation in.

Wasn't that something. Oxley hadn't realised they could actually have secrets from one another. They always seemed to share everything, after all.

Every ounce a little drummer boy, Mathew dared steal a glance or two around the deck. Nobody much noticed so far. It meant the prank was going better than expected. It would have been awful if they were discovered so soon. Even if the stock felt foreign and it did bother him a little, no surprise there. It was the first time he actually wore it for more than a short while and knew he'd have it for as long as this could continue. Even with the unusual feeling of it, he hoped it would be long. Being a marine drummer wasn't bad at all even if sometimes you were quite the piece of furniture to the other Tars.

He wanted to see what Oxley and the Shepherds were doing. Even if this had been a prank on him, he would not have minded being 'abandoned' in the marine's coat. But it wasn't anyway! There he saw, one of the young ship boys that ran past without a second glance.

With a grin, Andrew brushed invisible dirt off his shirt. "Not bad, eh?" He laughed at the dumbstruck expression on his brother's face. "Chase's lot. Arright. Somebody's gotta stand in fer our new drummer, y'know. 'Fore he's missed."

He knuckled his brow with a broad smirk, then headed topside. Thomas blinked.

"I'd never've thought of that," he said.

A ship's boy came scampering on deck and, after a moment's hesitation, made his way over to the drummer. Evans watched with interest. He knew all the ship's boys by sight and this was not one of them. But, the drummer currently on deck was not really a drummer either. It must be a day for things to not be quite what they should be.

"You two lads," Evans said in a low voice. "Keep your chatterin' down, would you?"

The ship's boy looked up at him in surprise and Evans had to fight hard to smother a grin. It would be one of the Shepherds.

"I wouldn't've thought of it, neither," Oxley admitted. "Don't go tellin' your brother he looks a proper Tar in that rig, neither - we'll never hear the end of it otherwise."

He glanced at the two lads, de Guarde and Andrew Shepherd. "Helloa. Looks like Tide Evans has seen 'em. Wonder if he's worked it out yet."

De Guarde blinked at the face he saw coming on deck. He had thought to ignore it as one of the boys, till he realised that the face was awfully familiar. The face that was usually hidden under a large marine hat, and the boy whose shoulders were usually embraced by a red coat. There was one of the Shepherds, barely recognisable, since he looked perfectly well as a Tar.

Why was the Shepherd dressed up like that though? He couldn't know which of the Shepherds it was, since the twins were so similar, that any choice he'd have made on the name of him, would've solely been a guess. Oh, right! While he was on watch as a marine drummer, somebody had to be in his place, else he'd really be in trouble. He'd have to thank that lad, he thought further ahead than he did!

"Does, don't he." Thomas grinned. Maybe Andrew had missed his calling. "Tide's arright. He won't rat 'em out, if he's figgered out what's goin' on."

~

"Ain't bein' loud, Mister Evans," Andrew said innocently. "Just passin' the time, like. Ain't that so, mate?" And he grinned at De Guarde.

"Better you go do your Tar things." De Guarde answered with a grin back. "Wouldn't do you any good if a Bo'sun finds you idling." He made sure that all the little lessons taught to him by the drummers were now considered, whether he just stood there, or went to adjust his coat. Which , for the moment, wasn't needed. He didn't want to fidget or tug at his stock much. It would draw attention if he did. A new drummer might do it, or someone who wasn't a marine at all!

"Didn't think he would. He's a good sort, I think, though I don't really know him, only from a distance, really." He made himself more comfortable. This was turning out to be even better than he'd hoped it would be.

"Me Tar things. Aye, nat'rally." Andrew nodded, smirking. "Better keep an eye on this 'un, Mister Evans. Can't trust them what carry drums an' all!"

Below, Thomas barely smothered a snort. He wasn't going to let his brother live this down, ever. "Oh aye, he is. 'Cept it'd be nice if that idiot didn't lay it on quite so heavy."

Oxley agreed with Tom Shepherd, for once. "Don't think he knows how to not lay it on so thick. Mister Evans don't seem to care, though. An' that Buckles, he's just as bad."

"Ain't he, though," Thomas agreed. "That's some luck for them, but it ain't gonna last if an officer gets wise to 'em."

"Can't trust them wot' dont carry drums. We's as clear n' honest as they get. But you lads.., youn pipsqueaks." He shifted his weight a bit, still standing perfectly in place. "You're always up to some mischief, n' that's a fact!" He grinned. "You better run 'long, before your.. officer sees you."

Evans hid a smirk. "Now lissen here, you two scamps," he said quietly. "Better lay off the actin' just a touch. Got a fine joke goin', best not spoil it. Now shove off, Shepherd, 'fore your Mister Cartwright takes note."

He glanced around casually and added, "Same for you, fella, 'cept Mister Bush don't miss a trick."

Allen had come up on deck to take his post, his eyes catching sight of the drummer boy standing at attention. Nothing odd there. But then, as he came nearer, he thought something seemed amiss. Mr. Evans was there too, but that was not it. Squinting, he took a closer look at the drummer. It could only have been Oxley or one of the Shepherds--but it looked like a different boy. In fact, he could have sworn it was that Tar De Guarde. At first Allen thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. But no, his first assumption had been right. The drummer boy was De Guarde. He chuckled softly, wondering what those Shepherd boys were up to this time.

"Hmm, that's funny," he said quietly as he approached, "I don't recall there bein' an extra drummer aboard th' Terpsy." Grinning, he added, "But I 'spose I'd better pretend nothin's amiss or I'll spoil whatever great joke you boys might be cookin' up."

Oxley grinned as Allen headed to take up his post, passing de Guarde on the way. Allen wouldn't tell, neither. This was going even better than expected; at this rate, they'd have every Tar and Marine in on the joke and the officers wouldn't be any the wiser.

It wasn't as though de Guarde was just wearing the kit, either. He knew what to do with the drum, which was just that much better.

"A'right, , sailor Tide." The boy smiled, at the Tar, thinking that the Shepherd had his own outfit perfect at present. From afar the officers will not notice that there's a Tar that doesn't belong, and on the other hand that there's a drummer, that has never been one.

"Spare? Don't know what you're sayin'. Been here for a while now." De Guarde answered seriously, and allowed himself only the faintest trace of a grin. The marine didn't look like he'd go shouting his realization to the rest though. Good man!

Andrew smirked. "Oh aye, don't ya know yer own drummers?"

It was time he made himself scarce, though. Evans' warning was only too correct. The rest of the detachment was finished with morning drill and heading below, and the watch relief was going around. Definitely time to join his 'division'.

With a quick bob of his head, Andrew scurried off to find Chase. He'd need the topman's help to make his part of the joke hold up.

~

"This's too perfect," Thomas observed happily. "I dunno how the officers could be angry over this, 'cause it ain't no real disruption, like."

Not with the two participants having a fair working grasp of what their temporary new jobs were.

So he wasn't the only one who'd caught on to the boys' little trick. Evans smirked at Allen. Maybe it was only readily obvious to them, since they weren't officers.

"Never can do nothin' with these boys," he remarked off-handedly to the Marine.

"Nope," Allen said, grinning at Evans, "Just can't trust 'em t' keep outta trouble."

Even though Andrew had already scampered off, he added, "An' I do too know my own drummers. That's why I knew somethin' was off. But I ain't gonna go blabberin' 'bout it neither."

De Guarde was feeling almost perfect to play the role now. He did notice that there were some that noticed he wasn't the right drummer lad. Oh well, he could change his clothes, but he really could not change his face. And he couldn't exactly paint it black, because then he'd be dirty and that was something marines were far from. Tars could be, but marines were shiny and spotless!

He flexed his hand a bit. In part he hoped he'd have a reason to tap his drum. In part he hoped he would not need to, just so he might not do something wrong. Though.. the part which wanted him to have a reason to use the drum was stronger. He smiled.